


Uncle

by linguamortua



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Bad Ideas, Daddy Issues, Deception, F/M, First Time, Orson Krennic has fucked the whole Erso family, Power Play, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linguamortua/pseuds/linguamortua
Summary: ‘I’ve never seen you out of uniform before,’ said Jyn, watching Krennic and swirling her drink round and round. His white undershirt felt revealing under her gaze.‘Happens every evening.’‘That explains it. I’m too busy doing boring extracurriculars with horrible boys.’‘To keep you out of trouble, I presume?’‘Not any more. I’m of age—I can do whatever I want.’ Her eyes flashed with triumph. ‘Including get myself into trouble.’‘Trouble,’ Krennic said, choosing his words carefully, ‘is subjective.’A story in which Jyn shows up at Krennic's door on the day she comes of age, and Krennic ruthlessly takes the opportunity to fuck the third Erso and cement his hold over Galen.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In this story as in canon, Orson Krennic is a terrible person and Jyn Erso just came of age. I can't stress this enough: if you don't like the idea, backspace now. The tags make it quite clear what kind of story this is.

Within ten minutes of the general mess bell ringing, Krennic was, as always, back in his quarters with three fingers of brandy at the ready and his jacket blissfully off. Work was progressing glacially, and Krennic was forced to deploy all of his modest reserve of self-control to return to his private rooms at the end of each day rather than drawing his blaster and making object lessons of the incompetent engineers thwarting his timeline. Oh, he thought, for a dozen Galen Ersos, each worth their weight in Mandalorian iron. What he had, in the main, was dross.

The astringent aroma of brandy surrounded him as he divested himself of cufflinks and collar pins and loosened the neck of his shirt. Appearances had to be maintained, a fact which chafed Krennic’s patience as much as his throat.

He took a parsimonious nip of his brandy, rolling it over his tongue. It was of only passable quality, and there would not be more until next fortnight’s resupply. Comfort was hard to come by these days, everything hurried, everyone stretched, and Tarkin’s wizened hand like a fucking vise on the Imperial purse-strings. Krennic shucked off his shirt, letting it crumple on the floor, and kicked his shoes through the connecting door to rest under the barely-double bunk. The fact that he could stand in his sitting room and see his bunk was unbearable, insulting. ( _You’re not a married man, Orson—whyever would you require larger quarters?_ Tarkin had asked, spare face bleakly amused by Krennic’s entirely reasonable request.)

A chime from the door echoed through his rooms. Krennic growled into his glass and set it down a little too hard.

‘Come!’ he barked, waving his hand over the access pad to confirm the order. Another lackwit junior engineer sent to deliver bad news, no doubt, drawing the short straw amongst his peers. The door hissed open.

Jyn Erso.

Krennic hastily rearranged his face out of its glower and attempted a convincing smile. The corner of Jyn’s mouth quirked awkwardly up in return.

‘Evening,’ she said, too-casually, as if they’d just brushed past one another in the hallway.

‘Good evening.’ Krennic raised his eyebrows. ‘I was expecting an engineer.’

‘Sorry to disappoint. I can go and fetch my dad if you’d rather.’

‘No, no,’ said Krennic hastily. ‘I’d prefer your company to more bickering over material standards and pipe gauges.’ Which was true. There was something unusual about her this evening, he saw, as he opened the door properly and let her slouch in. Since the day she’d clambered to her feet and demanded to be allowed to explore the station, Jyn had hardly been seen out of practical overalls and workwear. Krennic did not habitually pay attention to children; but then, Galen’s compliance and his return to the Death Star project had been dependent on Krennic’s show of goodwill to his wretched family. So, he had paid attention to Jyn and been amused despite himself. Had watched her grow from a sturdy, curious child to a watchful, rebellious young adult. A curious development tonight, then, to see her in wide, swishing grey trousers and a silky, draping blouse in dark green. And, most curious of all, the dull pink stain of cosmetics on lip and cheek.

‘What the occasion?’ Krennic asked, waving the door closed behind Jyn. she snorted, her arms folded across her chest.

‘Only my birthday, _Uncle_ ,’ she said, the honorific sarcastic. She hadn’t called him that in years. Krennic rested his forehead on his palm in mock despair.

‘How could I have forgotten?’

Jyn shrugged. ‘I didn’t expect you to remember. You’ve always been crap at that stuff.’ She paused. ‘Ma had to remind my dad this morning, so he forgot, too.’ Krennic tilted his head at her, stuck out his lower lip in a mock pout.

‘Poor baby.’

‘Poor me,’ Jyn agreed. ‘Are you coming to my party, though?’

‘Aren’t you a little old for parties?’ Krennic softened it with a smile.

‘It’ll be boring. Ma arranged it.’ Jyn plucked at her blouse by way of explanation: _look at how I have to dress_. She turned away and made a slow progression around the room. She had never been in his quarters before. Not here, at least. Perhaps on Scarif, when she was very small. Galen would occasionally bring her when he and Krennic took a nightcap. Galen would pass it off as fatherly duty, but he was a poor liar. The truth was, Galen could not easily be seduced with his daughter in the room. In the early days of his marriage, his will had had been extraordinarily weak in that regard.

Jyn ran her fingertips along a dusty shelf and held them up for him to see.

‘Inexcusable. Your cleaning droid needs reformatting.’

‘I don’t use droids in my quarters.’

‘You do the cleaning yourself?’

‘Evidently not well enough,’ Krennic said, nodding at her smudged hand. ‘Privacy,’ he elaborated, not knowing why he did so. Jyn’s hand wandered over his abandoned cufflinks, inspecting the engraving, and then to the holster of his blaster. It was a vintage piece with a custom stock, the likes of which she had probably never seen before. She slid the weapon out with a confident grip. Interesting; Galen and Lyra would certainly have forbidden her the firing range. He said as much and Jyn laughed.

‘Cadet program runs at the same time as climbing. They’re thrilled by my sudden, wholesome interest in outdoor pursuits.’ Krennic barked out a laugh, genuinely pleased by her brio. In a flash, Jyn whipped the blaster up in a tight, two-handed hold and aimed it across the room at the notched decoration above the viewport frame. It was not so far past Krennic’s head that paranoia was unjustified. Krennic experienced a ripple of dangerous excitement. It would be a bravura play if the Ersos had sent Jyn to kill him. He know Lyra would be capable, certainly. Only their personal history and Krennic’s strong hand kept him in any way safe from Galen’s wife. And even that safety was fragile. Push any man too far and he could snap.

Jyn sighted along the blaster, rubbed her thumb over the stock. ‘I like this,’ she said fiercely.

‘Cadets and blasters,’ said Krennic with wonder. ‘You savage.’ Jyn grinned then and set his blaster back on the shelf. ‘Is that what you want to do with yourself, then? Galen was always tiresomely impressed with your school marks, you know. The proud father.’ Krennic heard the cynicism in his own voice, but Jyn was not offended by it.

‘Yeah. They’d like a little engineer. A mini Galen.’

‘You’ll disappoint them.’

‘I’ll disappoint them whatever I do.’ Krennic knew little about parenting and cared less, but he thought he recognised youthful rebellion. He’d been much the same way once. It would be hard for Jyn to be truly disappointing, he thought—she was smart, strong, had backbone. For now it was both amusing and useful to play the sympathetic confidante. Besides, despite her tomboyish discomfort with her outfit, she was suffused with an attractive glow that Krennic was enjoying. She hadn’t come to offer him a party invitation; she was obviously making overtures.

‘You couldn’t sign on here,’ Krennic said, as Jyn rifled idly through a stack of data chips. ‘No officer program.’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’d have to head to—let’s see—the Barron system.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Your parents would miss you.’ Jyn shrugged in the middle of lifting his uniform jacket to read his rank insignia. She pulled it free of the chair back and swung it around and over her shoulders, leaving her arms out of the sleeves. It was too big, but it lent her the most delightful, rakish air, like an x-wing pilot on shore leave. A lick of desire crawled through Krennic.

‘What do you think?’

‘I think you’re well-suited for command, Director Erso.’

Folding her arms again, Jyn leaned against the wall. They were quite close—she had come all the way round the room, inching closer like a skittish animal, and now he could almost reach out and touch her. It was a divine, fumbling attempt at a seduction. Krennic was charmed, as he hadn’t been in many years. It would be easy, so easy, to help her along and let himself be seduced. And in the process, tie Galen a little more closely to him.

‘You’d be missed,’ he said again, more softly.

‘By who?’ said Jyn, challenge in her voice. Not really believing it.

‘Oh, everyone. Parents, obviously. Classmates. Friends. Girlfriends. That service droid on corridor A97-3.’ He paused in counting off on his fingers. Fish in a barrel. ‘Boyfriends.’ Jyn flushed a dull red and looked away. The blush crawled down her neck; Krennic watched it with interest.

‘I’m not interested in girls. Or boys. Well—’ she hastily corrected herself. ‘Not the boys here. I don’t want to get felt up behind the cooling ducts by some spotty creep from the mechanics bay. Ugh.’

‘Teenage boys have always been a great burden to the female of the species,’ agreed Krennic gravely. He rescued his forgotten brandy and took a sip, then held the glass out to her. ‘Drink?’ She looked at it with wide eyes—forbidden fruit, thought Krennic in disgust. Just like her sanctimonious parents. Nevertheless, she touched her tongue to her upper lip.

‘Well, pour me a fresh one.’ 

Krennic laughed. ‘Point taken. I’m forgetting my manners.’

‘I don’t think you even have any,’ Jyn said, in an almost-question.

‘I don’t. At least, I try not to. Waste of time.’ Krennic took down a clean glass and poured her out the smallest measure, barely a finger. When he handed it to her, he let their hands brush. She sniffed the glass.

‘Brandy?’

‘It is.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘I wish it was better, if it’s your first time. It’s second rate at best.’ The words _first time_ brought the blush back to her face, and Krennic writhed internally with a fierce, cruel joy. The first sip of brandy made her cough, but she carried on gamely. He pushed a chair out towards her with his foot. ‘You could be comfortable.’

‘I’m comfortable enough.’ She looked it, loitering against the wall in his coat. Krennic sat, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankle. He rested his left elbow on the table, leaving his brandy at the perfect height. His right, he rested on his thigh.

‘I’ve never seen you out of uniform before,’ said Jyn, watching him and swirling her drink round and round. His white undershirt felt revealing under her gaze.

‘Happens every evening.’

‘That explains it. I’m too busy doing boring extracurriculars with horrible boys.’

‘To keep you out of trouble, I presume?’

‘Not any more. I’m of age—I can do whatever I want.’ Her eyes flashed with triumph. ‘Including get myself into trouble.’

‘Trouble,’ Krennic said, choosing his words carefully, ‘is subjective.’

‘Subjective how?’ Krennic’s jacket rustled against the wall as she shifted position. Krennic shrugged, knowing how insinuating it looked. Lyra had told him so several times.

‘Your parents think joining the cadets is trouble. You don’t—I don’t. The Empire runs on smart young officers. Getting caught behind the cooling ducts with a boy might be trouble. Unless you marry him.’ He finished his brandy. ‘Don’t marry a boy like that, by the way. Free advice for you.’ Jyn laughed— _as if_. ‘By the way, if it were known that you were here, looking like this—’ he gestured to Jyn’s party outfit ‘—you’d be in quite a lot of trouble. More, actually, than getting caught skulking around the air filtration system with a boy.’ He put insulting emphasis on the last word. 

‘What do _you_ think about that?’ Jyn’s eyes were bright and the alcohol was having an effect; a high colour had taken up residence in her cheeks that was overwhelming her careful makeup.

‘On Peraxis, a small planet orbiting the red Vanar VI sun, it’s customary for young women to put their virginity in the hands of an older man. Rather than squandering it on an incompetent peer. It’s quite a production, I hear.’ He held Jyn’s gaze. ‘There’s a nasty streak of prudishness in a lot of Imperial officers, but I like to think of myself as cosmopolitan.’

Jyn’s shoe scuffed against the floor as she dragged it forward, as if the first step was painful. The next was a little easier and the next, and then she dropped her glass on the table with a crack and then—and then she was in his lap, his uniform jacket sliding to the floor and her arms coming up around his neck with something like exuberance. He caught her up and steadied the chair with his feet as it rocked backwards alarmingly. A moment to arrange themselves, to fit their bodies together properly, and then their mouths were crushed together. 

Jyn kissed with significantly more enthusiasm than skill at first, all brandy-drenched tongue and overeager teeth, but it was easy for Krennic to correct her simply through his own technique. She was a quick learner, and once it was clear that she would not be rebuffed, she settled, letting Krennic pull her in by the waist. He took possession of her mouth with deep strokes of his tongue, swallowing up the noises she made low in her throat.

What a waste of a girl, he thought in the back of his mind—kept from all the things that she so clearly wanted and stuffed into awkward party clothes on her first day of adulthood. A travesty.

She had no sense of rhythm or pacing, which suited him fine. He was hard already, denied for far too long by the necessary solitude of command. Through the light fabric of her trousers he knew she could feel him; she was already experimentally rolling her hips down to meet the firm line of his cock. She was gloriously strong; he could feel the muscles of her forearms against his shoulders, her thighs over his. Something like a felinx.

‘Up,’ he managed to say against her mouth, repeating it until she moved. If they stayed here too long, he’d disgrace himself. She peeled herself off him reluctantly. Jyn was too sturdy for Krennic to carry with any style, so he settled for crowding her backwards towards the bedroom door, a little bossy; she grabbed two handfuls of his undershirt and let him push her down onto the bed. Her hands went to his fly; his untucked her shirt. He bent awkwardly to get his mouth on the soft, white skin of her belly; she grabbed a handful of his hair, tugged his undershirt askew. He paused to pull it off over his head. Jyn made an approving noise.

‘You’re fit,’ she said. Krennic, busy exploring the line of her hipbone above her trousers, paused and looked up.

‘Don’t sound so surprised.’

‘Well, _considering_ —’

‘I’ll have you shot out an airlock,’ he threatened as she laughed, and he pulled at the long, silky tie of her blouse. It unwrapped at the front somehow, falling away and pooling around her. She shrugged out of the sleeves. He rolled them over and made her squeak with surprise. The snap of her bra came apart in one hand, and he flung it away so that he could revel in the feeling of her tits against his bare chest. The sight of her made him say something unforgivable in Xaczik—untranslatable, probably. With her on top of him, he could press his thigh up between hers, and slide his hands under her trousers and onto her arse. Strong, like the rest of her, but still soft with puppy fat. He shoved them down, taking her underwear with them. 

‘You, too,’ Jyn demanded, kicking out with one leg to shake her clothes to the floor. ‘Damn it—oh, there.’ 

‘Go ahead.’ Krennic gestured. Jyn knelt up and with eager, nervous hands, divested him of his uniform trousers. The sight of his cock in his shorts made her suck her lower lip into her mouth. She hovered (interested, infuriatingly hesitant) and in the end his impatience got the better of him. He took her hands in his, pushed his underwear away.

He wondered if she’d ever sucked a cock. He asked her, in the most vulgar way he knew, just to see her reaction.

‘No,’ she said, looking away and back. 

‘Want to learn?’

‘I don’t know.’ Krennic resisted the urge to take her by the back of the neck and give her an abrupt lesson in it. Gently, he told himself. Gently. She’ll come back if you’re careful. Still, it was a chore to resist, especially when her mouth was pink from kissing and her lipstick was smudged across his chin. She had her mother’s mouth—a young version of Lyra. 

The Lyra who, newlywed, was insufficiently politically aware to resist Krennic’s easy blackmail. His cock jerked as he recalled Lyra on her knees in a supply closet, how she’d been angry at being backed into a corner, and by the price Krennic had exacted for his silence. _It would be a shame if Galen had to find out about this,_ he’d said, when she couldn’t reply, and the way her eyes had narrowed in rage had made him spill too soon, flooding her mouth with his spunk. Like mother, like fucking daughter. He grinned at Jyn, letting her feel the full force of his delight even without her knowing what prompted it. 

She cracked. 

‘Don’t choke me,’ she warned, sliding down the bed.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’ He watched her as she tentatively took hold of his cock, touched her mouth to it. The tiniest lap of tongue, unsure. He held his breath and waited. Her careful fingers stroked downwards once, made his foreskin pull back. She licked at him again, and again, and then bent to work, letting the head of his cock push between her parted lips. Krennic would readily admit to being the greedy, territorial sort. The thought of being first, _first_ , of making his mark, was almost exciting enough to make him come there and then. As it was, it made him convulse a little, fucking up into her mouth. She choked and pulled away.

‘You promised,’ she said, indignant.

‘Accident, darling.’ Arousal made him sweet.

‘Well, I won’t do it any more.’

‘Mmm,’ agreed Krennic absently, craning up and licking her lower lip, tasting himself. ‘Come up here.’ Guided by his hands on his hips, she walked her knees up his body a little. He parted her inner thighs, spread her open with his thumbs. She had dark, wet curls of hair, trimmed but unapologetically there. He took her right hand. ‘Show me how you touch yourself.’

‘What,’ she started, incredulous and blushing.

‘It’s educational.’

‘You need educating?’

‘Every woman is different.’ He pressed her fingers to her cunt. ‘Do it.’ She moved two of her fingers in brisk, short circles over her clit. It was nothing that he hadn’t seen before but he watched her for a moment. She had bitten her nails; they were uneven with it. The smooth skin of her inner thighs slid on his as she rubbed herself more vigorously. Her eyes had fallen closed and Krennic allowed her to keep them that way. It would be easier if she were already wet. He considered having her ride him but—and he was guessing, but he was rarely wrong—what she would want, he thought, was to be taken. Properly. He gritted his teeth as she moved and his cock rubbed against her arse. 

She opened her mouth in a wordless gasp as she came, and her left hand came forward onto his chest, bracing her through it. 

‘Shit,’ she said, ‘was I supposed to—’ She broke off as Krennic curled two uninvited fingers up into her cunt, feeling her muscles pulse around them. Her breath sighed out with pleasure. ‘Don’t stop,’ she said in a rush as he withdrew. He licked his fingers and shoved her off him, onto her back on the mattress.

Flushed down her chest, breathless, one arm flung out to the side; it was a good look. Krennic sat up and stood, drinking her in. It was a high bunk. He could—

‘What?’ said Jyn, impatient, a little shy.

‘I’m wondering,’ Krennic said, through a throat tight with desire, ‘how I want to do this.’

‘Don’t I get a say?’

‘You don’t know what you’re about.’ He leaned down and kissed the inside of her thigh, consoling.

‘I might not like what you choose.’ 

‘How do you know what you like if you don’t try it?’ He beckoned her closer, almost to the edge of the bed. Under her, the covers screwed up into a pile. He wondered how flexible she was; he took hold of one calf, then the other, folding her knees towards her chest. There was a stripe of wetness down the back of one thigh, and her labia, full and pink, pressed together invitingly. Her lips moved but she didn’t say anything. A more experienced woman would have said his name, exasperated— _stop playing around and fuck me, Orson_ , or maybe _like what you see, Krennic?_ But the last time Jyn had given him any kind of name, she was still calling him uncle. Her hesitation unvoiced her. 

‘Ask me,’ he said, in a fit of inspiration.

‘Ask you what?’

‘Ask me for it,’ he said, relishing every word. Biting them off. He breathed a kiss onto her ankle, where they rested up on one shoulder. Jyn writhed.

‘Do it, then,’ she said kicking pettishly at his shoulder with one heel.

‘Manners,’ he murmured into her calf. Jyn paused, knowing what he wanted. The moment stretched.

‘Please,’ she said. Krennic’s cock jumped. He was leaking a little. When he lined himself up and brushed her skin, her breath caught.

Krennic waited, drawing the moment out. Tormenting himself with the visual of his cock, agonisingly hard and blood-flushed red, resting against her outer lips. He nudged them apart a little, opening her up just enough to see the slick, dark parts of her.

Over his left shoulder, his communicator chimed.

‘Motherfucker,’ he said quietly, and Jyn giggled with tension. ‘Hush, darling,’ he told her. ‘This is Krennic,’ he snapped, opening the line.

‘Orson,’ came Galen’s voice. ‘I just wanted to update you.’ Jyn convulsed with guilty surprise at hearing her father’s voice. Slowly, so that the bunk didn’t give a telltale creak, Krennic leaned down and covered her mouth with his hand. ‘Is this a bad time?’

‘Not at all, old boy,’ Krennic said. Beneath him, Jyn’s eyes widened. She huffed out a tiny breath that might have been laughter or horror.

‘I was in conference with the team at Naura today, and they have solved the problem of the bracing devices. A certain new alloy was the problem. We have eliminated that alloy but there are trade-offs, most notably—’ Galen rattled on and Krennic, barely listening to his words, enjoyed the mellifluous sound of his voice, and the accent that was so familiar to him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe that Galen was with him, and that it was Galen’s skin that his cock was pressed up against. Like rolling the clock back twenty-five years. _Fuck._

‘—don’t you think, Orson?’

‘Absolutely,’ Krennic agreed, remembering to omit ‘darling’ at the last possible moment. 

‘And that’s just what I told them. So we will resolve that problem too. And about the frangible nuts—’ 

Had he ever called Galen ‘darling’? It didn’t seem the thing. It had never been a romance, really, just two unusually smart boys seeking solace in the only classmates who had a chance of understanding them. A meeting of minds that didn’t quite end at graduation. Galen said something about stress tolerances and Jyn moved impatiently. As she shifted, the head of Krennic’s cock slipped, came to rest up against her arse. He pressed it wetly against her hole, and her breath caught, and held. It took some careful manoeuvring, but he found that he could reach her cunt with his free hand. He slid his thumb into her, letting his knuckles butt up against her clit. 

Jyn’s eyes closed and she sucked in a breath around his hand. She relaxed into his touch and her arse hole fluttered against his cock. Gentle pressure forward, enough to tease—there was no chance, of course, but she could not know that. Although she was wholly unprepared to get fucked in the arse, still her body relented a little to him.

Over the comms, Galen rambled to a halt and sighed.

‘—and that’s all I have for you, unfortunately.’

‘Excellent,’ Krennic said, which did not track at all as an answer. ‘You’ve done very well.’

‘Actually, there are so many issues,’ Galen began, but Krennic interrupted him.

‘Give yourself some credit, Galen,’ he said. ‘Do go and get some rest. You’re off-duty; that’s an order.’

‘Very well,’ Galen said, and made some pleasantry, dropping the call.

Krennic took his hand off Jyn’s mouth.

‘What if—’ she started. Krennic had had enough of talking, enough of interruptions. He fitted one hand to the back of each of her thighs, opening her up to him, and fed the tip of his cock into her cunt. She choked out a little sound.

Krennic remembered acutely the first time he was fucked. The intrusive, vulnerable feeling of someone else entering his body. He made the feeling last for her, inching forward in a long, slow drag that tortured him. She was blood-hot inside, and her thighs tightened around him. She had not asked him for protection, and he hadn’t offered, selfishly, jealously wanting to feel her and for her to feel him. The thought of ruining her for other men was a beguiling one. Of fucking her so well that boys her age would be a disappointment. He bared his teeth in a grin. She didn’t see it; one arm was thrown across her eyes and her mouth was open.

He bottomed out in her with an embarrassing groan.

‘Am I hurting you?’ he managed to say. She moaned in response. How had he thought she was anything like her mother? She was better, so much better—she _wanted_ him. 

Jyn shifted one foot flat against Krennic’s shoulder and used it as leverage, trying to pull her hips up to meet his. He denied her for a brief second, enjoying the power, and then began to fuck her in earnest. Every thrust made a soft, wet sound; she was messy with it, slicking his thighs. Her moans were girlishly inconsistent, as if she had never watched a dirty holo. Unschooled. He was dragging those sounds out of her. He shuddered, slowed down. Had to make it last.

A voice command would comm Galen back. _Hullo Galen, just forgot something—as you’ve finally decided to be faithful to your wife, I’ve had to fuck your daughter instead. Yes, I’m quite serious, can’t you hear her? It would have been Lyra, but she’s a withholding bitch without the right leverage, and she’s useless at sucking cock. Why don’t you ask _her_ how I know? I’m not the one who broke my marriage vows. Perhaps you’re well-suited to each other. Anyway, must dash, old boy._

‘Fuck,’ he said, desperately trying to come back to reality. Jyn gave a tense, whimpering moan and Krennic reached down to her mouth. She licked his fingers and he touched them to her clit. He couldn’t wait much longer and his pride would not allow him to come first. What a humiliation that would be. Remembering how she liked it, he drew firm circles over her. She flung her head sideways, back arched, and jammed some of the bedsheets in her mouth. He fucked her harder, almost too hard, fingers digging into her leg. He had to pause to shift one knee up onto the mattress, and she gave a desperate, needy moan. Just a little more and she was coming with a fully-body shiver, cunt tightening around him over and over. One hand grabbed erratically at the covers on the bunk. Krennic was mesmerised by the arch in her back, how it pushed her ribcage up, her pink-nippled tits tilted outwards.

That did it for him; if she wanted anything else she would not get it, because he was coming in long, clenching pulses, grinding his hips down, filling her. He heard himself groan again and bit it off, breathing in short pants through his teeth. They were both breathing fast. He stayed there for a moment and then began to pull out. His semen started to trickle out of her and he watched it, rapt. Galen used to like—he dragged his fingers through the mess, fucked her with them a little. She made a disconsolate noise, overstimulated, tried to twist away. He held for a moment before he allowed it, just long enough to lean over her bent legs and hold his hand out. 

‘Come _on_ ,’ she said, embarrassed, but she opened her mouth anyway and let him feed his fingers into it. _Yeah_ , Krennic thought, _like father, like daughter_. 

He levered himself up, ignoring the way his back protested, and pulled on his shorts and undershirt. It was always more pleasant for him to be dressed afterwards. Whoever was dressed had the power. She propped herself up on her elbow, waiting for something.

‘I hardly know what to say,’ he told her, ‘I might never recover from that.’ She gave a delighted laugh.

‘It was,’ she said, ‘I mean, thanks, and everything. It was great. Do people even say that, is that weird?’

‘I always like to hear you speak your mind. I encourage it.’

‘How will I ever look my dad in the eye, though.’ She fished around for her underwear; Krennic found them and handed them over. With a little arch of her hips, she put them on, still lying down. Krennic didn’t point her to the ‘fresher. He was curious to see if she’d go off to her birthday party smelling like him, marked by him, his spunk still trickling out of her. Fuck. Maybe he’d make an appearance. It would be worth it, to see.

‘Your father had a very busy social life when we were students together,’ said Krennic. He watched her dress, and then she followed him back into the sitting room. They stood awkwardly for a moment, and then he kissed her. Kissed her properly, languidly.

‘You’re probably busy, then,’ she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets. ‘And I have to, you know. Go.’

‘You do. You’ll be late for your party, birthday girl,’ he said, declining to tell her that her lipstick was still badly smudged. He opened the door for her.

‘Goodnight, Uncle Orson,’ said Jyn with a smirk. Krennic smirked back, and wondered how many days it would be before she showed up on his doorstep again.


End file.
